


Samyojana

by knotted_rose



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Character Study, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knotted_rose/pseuds/knotted_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of seven related drabbles about Gil Grissom, based on the Buddhist principle of Samyojana - a fetter that binds the mind to the cycle of rebirth, preventing it from attaining nirvana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samyojana

**Author's Note:**

> This could be seen to be taking place in the [Lilie's 'verse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/169455?view_full_work=true) but it can stand alone.

1\. Self-identity--the concept that any part of you, anything less than the whole of you, is you, yourself.

 **Ghost**

He slides away, escaping before the boys looking for sport with the greatest geek their high school's ever produced even realize their catch was in their grasp. His mother taught him how--how to observe, how to hang back. How to be nothing but ears for her, a voice for her, an extension of her, nothing else.

Brilliance hidden under her bushel, he glides through school, deflecting the attention of teachers and classmates alike. Takes pride in finishing the paper, the homework, not the doing of, or the rare praise.

Separate, never equal: he's an island dreaming of foreign shores.

* * *

2\. Uncertainty - doubt and confusion.

 **Cycles**

Endings are supposed to be cathartic, right? The final act of a play. The last chapter of a story. The completion of a case, when loose ends are tied up, important questions answered.

But it isn't always that way. Sometimes the perpetrator is as much a victim as the dead.

Gil tells himself that it's the system, not the evidence. Not him. He seeks stimulation--roller coasters, alcohol--to block out the memories, the unfairness, the injustice.

They'll never know his doubts, the times he nearly doesn't come back.

But he always does, his return as persistent as any tide.

* * *

3\. Grasping at precepts and practices - attachment to wrong views, rituals.

 **Sailing**

While Gil lost the ability to pray some time ago, as well as belief in his mother's god, he still clings to one salient rock, his anchor in the storm of human lies and corruption that he faces every day at work.

Process.

Though he extols the virtue of evidence, it's the process that really counts. Being exact in the collection of, analysis of, interpretation of, questioning of. The evidence can't lie, as long as the gathering of it is honest.

Habit.

Then Nick and Warrick come along, and Gil decides maybe there's one other constant in the universe.

Love.

* * *

4\. Sensual passion.

 **Tongues**

Gil has always been an experimental scientist. He's tried men and women, hot tubs and floggers, honey and ice. He considers himself experienced.

Then Nick starts whispering Spanish across his naked skin.

Gil recognizes the words of love, words all three of them have trouble saying, even when they should.

So he moves, not up to hinder that voice, but down, to swallow another part of Nick, while Warrick presses in from behind.

The litany continues, phrases bathing skin like sweat, desire heightened with each soft syllable.

Completion shakes through Gil, rocks his core--makes him want to experiment again.

* * *

5\. Passion for form - materiality.

 **Taking**

Sometimes Gil needs more control.

He harshly takes what's freely given, laughter turning mocking and orders issued.

He isn't unduly cruel--deprivation works as well as pain. He steals his lover's sight, then abstains from pattern in his touch with hands or toys.

He can go all night, delighting in the other's loss, drowning in whimpers and obedience. He knows to watch, though, only pushes as far as he needs, not as far as he wants.

The making up is sweet, roles blurring as savaged skin is worshiped, soothed. Gil may sometimes regret his need, but never his love.

* * *

6\. Passion for formless phenomena - immateriality.

 **Taken**

Sometimes Gil needs to lose control.

His lovers bind wrists, cock, maybe eyes, ankles. They tag-team tease him, feast on skin, torture nipples, keep him in sharp, twilight borderlands.

Then Warrick, maybe Nick, ride him. Slow and long or harsh and fast, not his call. Maybe take his mouth too, skewer him from both sides. Use him to their completion--until Gil breaks and all that is left is sensation, pulsing and pure.

His lovers reassemble him as he awakes, make him anew. He always swears not to burden them again, never understanding how they long to carry him more.

* * *

7\. Conceit - pride

 **Tests**

They'd lost.

He'd thought his hissing beauties were primed, ready to go. Ready to race.

He'd been foolish enough to make a wager on them. Nick and Warrick were never going to let him forget it.

But his team--his team had done well. His pride in them has never been misplaced.

He debriefs Warrick at the office, leaving home coming, home _welcoming,_ for home.

Besides, maybe if he delays long enough the smell would wear off. Or maybe it would last a week, as claimed.

Never bet a bug man about the efficiency of a repellent. Or an attractant.


End file.
